Honeysweet
by Domini Porter
Summary: Extremely experimental and odd but hey, whatever. Maura is in peril and Jane saves her, what else? If you feel so moved to read and comment, even if it's to say "i had no idea what was going on but i sort of liked it" that's awesome and I sort of love you. If you liked it check out "Saltbitter," the companion story from Jane's POV! Rated T for drugs and violence.
1. Long Dark

_She had been so easy to take. Because she was so nice._

_All he had to do was knock on the door; she'd seen it was him and because she was so nice she'd opened it for him no questions asked. All he had to do was wait until she invited him in, then take her. It had been so easy._

_She had struggled, more than she looked like she might struggle, but that was probably because of her friend the cop. She wasn't big enough to do him any real harm, a couple of shin kicks and some scratches high on his forearms, easy to cover with a shirt. It had been hard for him not to punish her right then for fighting back but she wasn't supposed to be marked when she was handed over so he contented himself with not being as careful as he could have been when binding her wrists and ankles, pulling the hood over her head and throwing her into the trunk of the car._

_She didn't make any noise, which he found a little strange, so he leaned in close and made sure she was still breathing. She smelled good. She smelled expensive, like flowers he'd never even heard of._

_It had been so easy. He'd taken her to the spot and left the car with her still in it. The next day he'd gone to the other spot and taken his briefcase and it was over._

* * *

_maura maura maura where is your head maura what is happening all right take deep breaths in and out to keep from hyperventilating, to prevent vasovagal syncope just breathe you will not be able to help yourself if you're passed out in the trunk of this car_

She didn't know precisely how long she'd been there but she estimated perhaps four hours after the engine had turned off. She had tried kicking at the backseats and the trunk door but nothing gave. She smelled the faint odor of dried blood and wondered briefly if it was hers, but she had not been hurt and realized the car she was in had probably served purposes like this one before. She breathed slowly and evenly, deliberately, working hard to remain as calm as possible. She had no idea who would have taken her—she recognized the man who put the hood on her and put her in the car from earlier in the day, the gas station, but she got the feeling he was only the driver.

_you helped him pay for his gas just because there was evidence of a child in the backseat and then he showed up at your house at night and that didn't seem strange to you, maura, what is wrong with you—_

The voice in her head was Jane's voice, she realized. The voice shouting at her for being so naïve, so incredibly stupid, was Jane's, but it was also Jane's voice telling her to stay calm and focus on her surroundings, it was Jane's voice telling her to try to search the trunk for anything that might help get the rope off her wrists and ankles.

_maura you will be okay as long as you stay calm do you understand you have to wait now, you just have to wait, and they'll be looking for you soon, and if whoever wanted you hasn't come for you and killed you yet maybe you dead is not what they want_

She strained her ears but heard nothing. She focused on her breathing. She began mentally listing every bone in the human body from head to foot, a calming technique from long ago.

_frontal, parietal, temporal, occipital—_

She began to hear footsteps. They were getting closer.

_palatine, zygomatic, nasal, lacrimal—_

The scrape of a key in the lock.

_gladiolus, manubrium, xiphoid process—_

The rush of cool, fresh air filling the trunk. It was still night. Maura braced herself for pain, for death, for anything.

_maura maura maura they are already looking for you, maura, don't be afraid, you can be afraid but maura don't lose your head_

Suddenly she was being hauled out of the trunk by many sets of hands. She felt the sinister pressure of a knifepoint high on her inner thigh, sliding down her leg, not cutting her, just teasing.

"Don't fuckin' do that." A man's voice, low and disapproving.

"Sorry." Another one. Higher. Younger.

The knife stopped at the coil of rope around her ankles. She gasped as the younger one's hand jerked slightly, she could feel a small cut opening on her leg, could feel the blood pooling in her shoe.

"You fuckin' idiot." The low voice. "She ain't supposed to be hurt."

"She ain't hurt," the younger one said. "Just a scratch."

The lower voice muttered something Maura couldn't make out.

_maura they are not going to hurt you, someone else wants you_

The idea of being taken to a mysterious captor was terrifying and reassuring; they wanted something from her, if they had wanted her dead she would be dead.

And then she was being pushed along a path, or a road, or a trail through what she thought was a wooded area; she could hear birds beginning to sing. The two men said nothing, one of them behind her and the other in front, the one behind with his hand gripping her upper arm, directing her roughly as they walked.

After what Maura estimated was a half-mile through denser and denser woods, they stopped. She heard a door open and shut, new footsteps moving closer to her. She smelled honey in the air and heard, far off, the low drone of bees.

_an apiary, jane, they came for me and tied me up and took me to an apiary, there are bees here and men with knives, i am trying to remember what you told me about staying calm, i am breathing and focusing_

"What happened to her leg?" A new voice, also unfamiliar. "I told you morons not to hurt her."

"Kevin got a little excited," said the low voice. The younger one—Kevin—made a sound of protest, and Maura winced when she heard the dull thud of something solid making contact with flesh.

"Take her inside."

Maura was being pushed forward again, stumbling up three plank steps into a suffocatingly warm room. The sound of bees was louder, the smell of honey filling her mouth and nose even through the dark, rough hood covering her head. It was a large space, she was pushed many steps before she was turned around and forced down into a chair.

Nobody spoke.

She heard two sets of retreating footsteps. She was alone with one of them. The new one, she thought, who must be the one she had been taken for.

"Hello," he said.

Maura didn't move.

"Let's get you more comfortable." She felt the thin rope holding the hood in place being pulled away. The hood being pulled off. She blinked. The light was dim but so many hours of total darkness made her squint anyway.

_maura you are still here and this is where you need to really focus, this is where you really need to pay attention._

_vertebrae: cervical, thoracic, lumbar_

"You're just as pretty as I'd hoped," the man said, standing just out of the light. "Maybe more." He sounded excited, pleased. "We're going to have fun."

Maura felt her heart clench and her stomach twist; she realized she had stopped breathing. The suffocating sweetness of honey and the suffocating drone of bees.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, his voice suddenly soft and concerned. "I mean, we're going to play some games, but I don't want you to feel any pain, I don't want that at all."

"Who-" she finally stammered.

"I like you, Maura," he whispered. "I like you so much I had my friends go pick you up so you could come and see me."

_maura maura maura don't lose your head, keep breathing, don't drown here, they will be looking for you soon, you need to think and keep thinking_

The man was behind her now, he reached out and stroked her cheek. Maura shuddered at the contact; his fingertips were cold, clammy, they left a trail of horror on her skin.

"I hope you're not allergic to bees," he said. "I know it's a little . . . cliché of me to bring you here, to a place like this, but there's something about the sound they make that soothes me. Do you like honey, Maura?"

"I-"

_don't talk to him maura, don't say anything at all, but don't fight him until you know you are strong enough to win, just sit here and think and think and maura they will be looking for you soon_

_carpals: scaphoid, lunate, triquetrum_

The man chuckled softly. "Don't worry, Maura," he said. "We don't have to talk at all if you don't want to. In fact, I'm not much for conversation, so I think we should just start, don't you? Now, I know you look breakable but I bet you're a fighter, so if you don't mind, I'd like to just . . ."

He drifted off and Maura could hear the soft clanking of glass and metal from somewhere behind her. The man came back, the dull flash of a knife blade in the soft honey light making her breath catch in her throat, but he positioned it at the loops of rope around her wrists.

"Be good," he breathed, jerking the blade up. The rope fell into loose coils in her lap.

_be good maura be good _

The man closed the knife and slipped it into his pocket. Maura still couldn't see him clearly, she was avoiding looking directly at him and the light was so dim and the smell of honey so overpowering and the sound of bees filling her ears.

He took her right arm in his hand, stroking the soft pale flesh near the crook of her elbow. Maura shuddered again. The man gripped her arm very tightly with his other hand, the first continuing to stroke the length of her forearm gently. After a moment, he stopped running his fingers up and down but did not loosen his grip.

"Okay," he said. "Good."

There was a brief moment of horror when Maura saw the needle coming.

"This will only hurt for a second. But you know what needle sticks are like, Doctor. And when it's done, you won't even remember what pain is like."

He slipped the needle into her skin, the sharp sting overwhelmed instantly by an onrush of sweet, heavy nothingness.

_maura don't let_

Her head fell back, her eyes slid closed. He had put something in her that made her feel as though she was falling and flying and disappearing into a thick fog, the taste of honey in her mouth, the drone of bees—

* * *

Sometimes the light would come on, she knew, because shadows would move in front of her. Sometimes she could feel things, sometimes she could hear voices, one voice, his voice, sometimes he would talk to her.

_maura maura where are you, oh the air is so heavy oh this moment is the only moment and even though i am soft and lost and even though i am surrounded by the drone of bees and the taste of honey and even though he is hurting me i cannot feel the pain_

The light would come on sometimes and she would feel the soft sting on her arm and then the world would plunge into a deep deep well where she could not feel anything, only the flutter of wings across her face, she knew he was there but she did not care, could not care, there was only the sweet amber-colored emptiness.

Sometimes she would think of a woman she knew, whose name she could almost touch, but the effort to pull it close enough to understand, to recognize, was more than she could manage. She only felt scared when she thought of the woman, she only felt the thinnest silver tendril of anguish when she caught glimpses of raven hair and dark eyes through the humming fog obscuring her mind. Otherwise it was dense thick honey, dense blank droning, even when he was there, even when he was hurting her, even though she could not feel pain.

"I love you, Maura," he whispered once as he stung her again. "You're my favorite one, you know? I'm never going to let you go, not ever."

_there is nowhere to go to, this warm blank universe is all that exists, there is no other place, i have fallen into the sea and there are bees and there is honey and there is nothing else, there is no pain and no pleasure and i am only this_

* * *

"Maura," he whispered, and she could taste the word like drops of honey on her tongue.

She tried to move but it was so hard, she tried to lift her head but the effort was exhausting, she gave up and gave up.

"Maura," he whispered again. She waited for the sting, she felt his fingers on her arm, touching her gently. She did not feel pain but she felt the difference between hard and soft and she imagined through all the layers of darkness pushing on her that this was love, when the touch was soft.

_love is nothing and there is nothing but blankness, i am drifting farther and farther away, sometimes i see a woman's face and i remember something but i do not know what it is, sometimes i see a woman's face and i feel something but i do not know what it is, maybe she will come for me, maybe she will touch me gently, maybe she will pull me out of this long night or maybe she will join me here_

_the sound of bees singing to me_

_the sharpness of their stings_

_this honeyed purgatory, i am drowning in it, bees drown in the honey when they cannot keep flying_

She moaned softly when the sting came. She thought she heard him laugh, and his laugh was the low drone of bees.

"I'm never going to let you go, Maura," she heard, though his voice was very far away, she was being pulled up and down again, she was flying and falling. She could tell the difference between hard and soft. He was hurting her again but she did not feel the pain.

Time was not passing, time was not real, she had always been right where she was, she could not imagine anything else.

* * *

When things changed she did not register them as change; they became the way things had always been, there had always been heat and noise, he had always been angry, when he said her name he had always said it with rage.

"They found us, Maura."

_who are they and who are we and i am drowning here, please let me drown here_

"They want to take you away from me, but I won't ever let you go, they can't ever have you back."

His words did not make sense to her, his voice was the low drone of bees, everything was the low drone and she sighed, she was exhausted, she was empty. She did not care about them, who they were, she did not care, she could not care.

"You're mine, Maura, you're my favorite one of all and I love you and they can't have you."

She murmured wordlessly.

"I know," he said, and she felt the sting again. "This way is better, isn't it?"

_the rush was so strong, it overwhelmed me, i fell deeper and deeper and i flew higher and higher and i was swallowed by the sun and there was nothing else except honey_

As she slipped into the darkness again she heard something loud, something insistent, something that was not the constant song of the bees, and then he touched her again except this time it was not with love; this time she could taste blood in her mouth, stronger than honey, she felt sick as she fell to the floor but she could not feel pain.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I love you but they want to take you away from me, and if I can't have you nobody else can, either."

She lay on the floor, lost, the blood in her mouth becoming sweet as honey.

_i am lost here i am lost, i am swallowed up by it, there is nothing but this, and there was not, and there has never been._

_there is a woman somewhere whose face means something but i do not know what it is, maybe she will come for me and tell me her name, maybe she will come for me_

She felt a new kind of dark encroaching on her, it was softer and warmer even than the sweet oblivion she had always known, she smiled faintly as it drew closer, she sighed softly as she felt it plucking at her, it was so kind, it wanted her, it had smelled the blood in her mouth and found her and she would go with it—

"Maura," she heard distantly, across years, across centuries. She almost recognized the voice; it was not his voice, it was something almost familiar.

"Maura," the voice called again.

_there is a woman somewhere who knows my name, who is calling out to me, her voice is the drone of bees and her body is made of honey and she is coming for me and this is love_

"Maura, are you here?"

"Mm-hmm," Maura mumbled. She tried to lift her head off the floor but it was so heavy, it was so tiring, there was something wrong but she did not know what, could not feel pain, she gave up, she succumbed—

_bees drown in the honey when they cannot keep flying_

_i can't—_


	2. Honeysweet

"Maura? Are you in there?"

_the air is thick and still and dark, like honey. i am drawing honey into my lungs, everything slow and sick-sweet and i feel so heavy, bound to the floor, i feel my limbs drowning in the honeyed air_

"Jane? Is that you?"

_my voice is slow and drowsy, my voice is the drone of bees, everything is the drone of bees and all i feel is the lazy pull of gravity, the immense weight of the atmosphere pushing me down, i tried to move but my fingertips could only grasp faintly at the air, it was so hard, it took so much effort, i am so tired, it is so calm and gauzy and soft and warm to lay here, to not move, to let myself be surrounded by the dense sweetness of honey, the drone of bees_

"Maura?"

_the voice tried to cut through the haze but i could not make my ears hear it. it is so tiring, so infinitely exhausting to turn my head, to force myself to respond, all i want is to stay here, cradled, loved, sinking down into the arms of this deep, dark, amber-colored emptiness_

"Maura? I'm here, okay?"

_honey, like bees, like bees drowning in honey_

"Jane," she whispered, more breath than word.

_a shadow passing over my face. a moon eclipsing the tiny sun made by the bare lightbulb. a known moon, a familiar phenomena, this waxing phase, this waning one_

"Jane . . ."

"Maura," Jane breathed, her hands flying to Maura's face, her arms, pressing gently all over her body, feeling for wounds.

_and then there was a woman in the moon and she touched me, she did, she caressed me and held me and her hands were made of honey and her voice was soft as a honeybee's hum, and then she was lifting me up through the heavy air and i slid up through the air and nothing was real_

"Maura, I need you to be here with me right now, okay?"

"Jane," she whispered again.

"Maura, please."

_the woman holding me was humming like a bee and it made me feel soft and happy, but the words she said began to coalesce and i was afraid_

"I'm here," she managed, and she felt herself becoming that.

"Maura, what happened? Are you all right?"

_i am all right, i am slow and perfect and calm and empty_

"Drugged," she said, her tongue not responding, her speech slurred and indiscriminate.

"I can see that," Jane said, testing out a wry smile that vanished when she tried to lift Maura into an upright position, Maura's eyes sliding closed, her head lolling back. "Maura," she said again, her voice harder and more desperate. "Maura, _please._ I need to you to stay with me, okay? Do you know what he gave you?"

_the woman was asking me such hard questions but her hands were so soft and warm, she was holding me close to her and it felt like love_

"Opiate," Maura tried, rolling her head forward with tremendous effort. "Heroin, maybe. Or Fentanyl. Needles."

_it was the first bee in the garden and it stung me and i was afraid but then the air turned to honey and i saw the face of god_

"Oh God," Jane muttered. "Okay, I'm gonna get you out of here. Let's go, Maura, we've got to get out of here."

"Yes," Maura murmured.

_take me away from here, from the thick sweetness of this long blank night where i could live forever if you would let me, if you do not want me i will stay here and here and here until the bees stop humming their droning songs, if you take me away from here it is love, your face is the moon and your hands are like sparrows and nothing is real, nothing is real except you holding me and me, slipping into your arms_

"Come on," Jane said softly, touching Maura's cheek briefly. "Come on, you can do this, okay? It's not too far. I know you can do this. Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?"

_he hurt me, he hurt me, but you are saving me, you are pulling me from the hollow core of the deep dark ground and lifting me up to the sky and this is love_

"Not badly, I . . . don't think," Maura said, her words labored, her responses trailing far behind her body.

"There's blood in your hair," Jane said abruptly, her voice expressionless.

"There is?" Maura mumbled. "It doesn't hurt."

"Is it your blood? Maura!" Jane stopped when Maura's eyes slipped shut again. "Maura, please. Please, God, please stay here with me, okay? Just a little bit farther."

"Mm-hmm," Maura hummed.

_bees drown in the honey when they cannot keep flying_

"Where are you hurt?" Jane helped Maura sink to a sitting position on the edge of a crate. "Babe, _where are you hurt?_" Jane's hands fluttered over Maura's face and head, searching for the injury.

_her hands in front of me, so bright red, there is no pain in me, i am incapable of hurt, the only thing i feel is the floor pulling me down, the only thing i feel is her hands, and this is love_

"Oh God," Jane whispered after a moment. She pulled her hand away from the back of Maura's head, her fingers slick with blood. "No, no, no," she breathed, her voice raw, terrified. "Okay, Maura, time to go, come on."

"I'm tired," Maura said faintly. "Can we stop?"

"We can't stop, okay, we have to keep going. You're hurt, Maura, and it's . . . it's bad, okay? So we have to keep going. Frost and Korsak are right outside, we're almost there."

"Only you," Maura murmured.

_the woman who lives in the moon was protecting me and her voice was the song of bees and her body is made of honey and little by little these things fade away; little by little the bees are returning to the hive and the world is sharper and colder and infinitely painful, i would go back to that place, i would throw myself back down into that deep deep sea, but she is keeping me safe, she is taking me away_

"I know," Jane said, her voice flat. "Almost there. Do you see that light?"

_it hurts me. this is pain rushing back in like a tidal wave. my head hurts. i want to drown in the honey, i cannot keep flying_

"Yes," Maura said. "Is it far? My head hurts, Jane."

Jane said nothing, but her grip on Maura's waist tightened suddenly, the muscles in her jaw standing out in sharp relief as she tried to move faster toward the door.

"Jane," Maura mumbled.

"Yeah?"

"My head hurts."

"I—I know," Jane said. "I know it does, honey. We're gonna make you feel better, okay? Just a couple more steps."

"No," Maura gasped as the light in front of them swelled and swelled. "No, Jane, my head-"

_there was nothing then. no bees and no honey. i was alone and it was dark but i was not afraid. i knew the world had ended and i was not afraid_

* * *

Something was beeping.

Something was beeping and it wouldn't stop.

Something was beeping and it wouldn't stop and all she wanted in the world at that moment was for someone to come and make it stop.

She didn't want to open her eyes, which felt packed with sand, but she knew she couldn't make the beeping stop if she couldn't see where it was coming from. She tried clenching her jaw to steady herself for the task of moving her eyelids but the action sent hot bolts of pain screaming through her skull.

She moved her hand, something pinching at her skin. She had to open her eyes.

"Maura?"

It was her name, she was almost certain. The voice was familiar, she was almost certain.

"Maura, are you awake?"

She moved her hand again. Something pinched at her skin.

"It's okay, Maura, take it slow."

She groaned, she whimpered, she tried to open her eyes but the light was so bright and it made her wince.

"Maura?"

The voice was familiar, she was certain.

"Jane?" Her lips were dry, cracked, her mouth was dry, cracked, her voice was dry, cracked.

"Yeah," Jane said, "it's me." Maura could hear the words being pushed out in a rush of relief and she knew something very bad must have happened.

"What happened?"

There was a long silence shattered periodically by the beeping.

"What's that beeping?"

"You're in the hospital, Maura," Jane said finally. "You were . . . hurt."

"Oh," Maura said.

The beeping must be from a machine keeping her alive.

"What's that beeping?"

"They had to put you on a bunch of monitors and stuff, you look kinda like an alien," Jane said, and though Maura still couldn't bring herself to open her eyes she could hear Jane smiling, she could hear all the shades of pain in Jane's smile.

"Can you . . . can you open your eyes, Maura? Please?" The last word was a plea, was a whispered hope, was less a request than a controlled expression of fear.

_she was holding me close to her and it felt like love_

"Hurts," Maura mumbled.

"Okay," Jane whispered. "When you're ready."

* * *

She opened her eyes.

The light seared her brain for a moment but then subsided, ebbing away like tides.

Her head hurt. She moved her hand; something pinched at her skin. An IV needle.

_it was the first bee in the garden and it stung me  
_

"Maura?"

"Jane?" Maura blinked slowly.

"Yeah," Jane said softly, and her face gradually emerged from the dense glimmering fog shrouding Maura's vision. "It's me."

"Where am I?"

"You're still in the hospital."

"What happened?"

There was a long silence. There was no beeping. She could keep herself alive.

* * *

Even after they told her what had happened Maura was not sure what was real. Her skull cracked from the butt of the pistol. The tiny bruises on her forearm from the needles. The faint humming of bees in her ears.

Jane not leaving her side through hours and hours spent in a blank dreamless oblivion.

She felt it when the pinching in her hand started to burn, when they put something in the vein that made her want to scream but the pressure of the scream building in her throat made her head throb so she swallowed it back down.

She felt it when the pinching stopped, when they pulled the needle out, but her head still hurt and her eyes were still packed with sand.

"I'm thirsty," she said, and she felt it when the cool plastic was placed against her lips, the exertion of drawing water into her mouth making her weary.

"How are you other than that?" Jane asked, her caution designed to protect both of them.

"My head hurts."

"I'm not surprised," Jane said, and Maura could hear the tenderness of her smile. "That asshole cracked you good."

"Who is he?"

"He is—he was-" and Jane stopped.

Maura opened her eyes. Jane was there, next to her, eyes fixed on Maura's face though she saw the insurmountable distance of death in them.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Jane frowned. "Don't you dare be sorry," she said, her voice tight. "Don't you dare, please Maura, don't you dare. He was a killer. He almost killed you."

"How?" Maura did not understand what had happened. She watched Jane watching her, watched the emotions shift across Jane's face.

"Your memory," Jane said. Her eyes were suddenly liquid. Maura did not understand what was happening. She frowned and her head hurt.

"You were hurt very badly, Maura," Jane said quietly. "A man pistol-whipped you and you almost died."

"Why would he do that?"

"I don't know." Jane's voice was rough. Maura could taste Jane's anguish like drops of honey on her tongue.

"Oh."

"The doctors said you might . . . you might have some short-term memory problems, maybe. For a little while."

Jane was clenching her jaw but the tears spilled onto her cheeks all the same.

"Don't cry, Jane," Maura said, though she was very tired and could feel the soft darkness of sleep starting to advance on her. "Please don't cry."

"Maura," Jane whispered. "You'll be okay."

"Okay," she sighed, closing her eyes.

"You'll be okay," Jane whispered again, or maybe it was an echo.

* * *

"I wasn't afraid," Maura said.

"Of what?" Jane leaned forward suddenly, startled by Maura's voice.

"Of dying."

Jane said nothing, but reached out and grasped Maura's hand, turning her face away.

"Because you were there with me," she said, trying to explain, but her words were still sometimes too far away to reach.

Jane squeezed her hand, then slid her fingers up Maura's wrist, her forearm, gently touching the spot where the first needle had gone in.

"That's not what I meant," she murmured.

"I know," Jane said, her voice thick.

_her voice was the song of bees and her body is made of honey_

Sometimes Maura still heard the bees buzzing faintly in her ears and she did not know if it was from the hurt to her head or the stings that frightened her until the air turned to honey and she saw the face of God.

"I'm glad I didn't die," Maura said, placing her own hand on Jane's. "I'm glad you didn't have to be there . . . for that."

"I've been there for almost that too many times," Jane mumbled and Maura could hear the tears on her face. "And so have you, so let's stop doing that, okay?" Maura smiled faintly.

"Okay."

"Do you remember anything?"

"Yes. Some."

"Do you-" Jane hesitated. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Maura closed her eyes, sighed. "Not really," she said. "Not now."

"Okay," and Maura could taste Jane's relief like drops of honey on her tongue.

"Thank you for saving me. Again," Maura said softly. "I don't know how to-"

"Shh," Jane interrupted gently. "I don't think I could really handle having this part of the conversation right now, you know? It's been a pretty heavy couple of days."

"It's only been a couple of days?"

"Well," Jane paused, swallowing hard, "nine days. It took five days to find you-" Jane's voice caught in her throat and Maura could hear the rage and sorrow choking her, like the low hum of bees. "And then it took you two days to wake up, and that was two days ago."

"Oh," Maura said. "I'm sorry to put you through that."

"_You _didn't put me through anything. And besides, I wouldn't have given up on you, Maura. Or left you once I found you," Jane said. "I won't."

Maura smiled. Her head didn't hurt as much.

_then there was a woman in the moon and she touched me, she did, she caressed me and held me and her hands were made of honey and her voice was soft as a honeybee's hum, and then she was lifting me up through the heavy air and i slid up through the air and nothing was real_

_she was lifting me up and she was holding me close to her and she was saving me and this is love_


	3. Strange Perfumes

_there are bees everywhere and honey and the air is amber-colored and i am looking at the world through this sicksweet haze and he is there, hurting me, and i am helpless but i cannot feel pain. he stings me again and again. i am incapable of caring_

She woke abruptly, her heart racing. In the darkness of her room she thought she saw a soft shadow moving in the corner, in the silence of the night she thought she heard a faint low drone. She blinked, shook her head, and the ghosts slipped away and everything was black and quiet.

She brushed at her arm, the bruises faded but the memory of each tiny sting still alive on her skin. She took a deep breath and could taste honey on her tongue.

_i am different now, jane, i am different now, i have spent time sleeping at the bottom of the sea and i have spent time staring at the face of god and i am suffused with honey now _

She breathed again, the taste dissipating. It always left her, the buzzing always faded, but it still took time. When it was gone she felt a peculiar emptiness, a loss, there was a room inside her with a locked door, she could not find the key and was only now aware of the desire to know what was hidden there.

She sighed. The night had resolved itself into reality again, as it always did. It had been days and weeks since she had been taken, days and weeks of waking up abruptly, trying to shake the fog from her mind. Days and weeks of catching herself just before slipping into that otherworld of honeylight and soft humming.

_i am different now, whether i want to be or not. i have spent time sleeping at the bottom of the sea, i have seen the face of god_

She touched her arm again softly, once more, and lay back down. She thought of anything else, she thought of places she'd been, of people she'd known, she drifted back into sleep wrapped in the arms of ancient memories.

* * *

"Maura?" Jane said, in the quiet way she now had sometimes.

Maura started, she had been lost somewhere, again.

"Yes?"

"Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine, Jane," she said. Her time spent floating in a different world had made her understand that some things were not lies.

"Are you . . . sure?" and Maura could hear the fragile humming uncertainty in Jane's voice, could taste her caution like drops of honey on her tongue.

"I'm fine," she said again, and smiled. "My head aches sometimes, but the occurrence is less frequent."

"And you're doing . . . okay other than that?"

Maura smiled again, more gently. "Yes," she said softly. "There are still moments when things . . . come back, but for the most part I feel very much myself."

_myself who is a lost thing suffocated and stung, myself who still lives there, helpless, waiting to be swallowed by honey_

"Okay," Jane said, but her voice was faintly sad. "Maura—"

"Yes?"

There was a long pause. Jane turned her face away briefly, rubbed at her own scars. Maura felt her wounded places start to hum, the thick amber perfume start to creep into her nose, her mouth.

_she came to me and she held me close to her and this is love_

"I'm—I'm so sorry."

"Jane—" she whispered, at a loss.

_lost_

* * *

It had been days and weeks since she was taken and nobody yet would speak to her about it. Days and weeks of feeling more alone and still safer in the dim gold light that still surrounded her when she let it. Days and weeks when she yearned for it, when she secretly wanted the sweet sting that plunged her to the very depths of the great amber sea, when her ears were filled with low drones, even when he came to her—

She shook her head. She still could not remember all of what happened; she had been told this was a blessing.

_sometimes the light comes on and i know it because shadows move; i know i will feel his hands on me, i know if he touches me softly it is love. soon will come the sting and then he will be hurting me but i cannot feel pain, i am lost, i am drowning, bees drown in the honey when they cannot keep flying_

She worked, she slept, she spent long hours staring blankly out windows. She spoke to Jane rarely, only when Jane spoke first. She was not sure how to be, now, she could see Jane was not either, she could hear the hesitation in Jane's footsteps, could taste the distance between them.

She had not been ready for how solitary this would make her feel, how apart, how marked. She had not been ready to let the weight of it drag her away from the life before, from Jane, from herself, but she could not help it, sometimes she was still so tired. Sometimes her head throbbed and she had to lie down. Sometimes she forgot why it hurt, she forgot what had happened to make her hurt so badly.

They had gotten the poison out of her and they had closed her wounds; they had told her over and over what had happened. They had told her what might happen but none of them had known about the drone of bees, the way their voices turned into the drugged low hum of bees, the way she slipped so easily underneath.

_in the night he comes for me and stings and stings, i am nothing, there is nothing, i still remember a woman and her face means something and sometimes i do not know what it is but she came to me and she held me close to her and it was love_

Jane sometimes looked at her as though she wanted to speak but she said nothing. They did not know how to be.

_you saved me from falling into the deepest dark, jane, you came to me and saved me, you stayed with me through the whole long climb out of the night, what is that if not_

Maura shook her head. The taste of honey had come back.

* * *

_i am there again. the shadows are moving. he touched me but it was not with love and i could taste blood in my mouth, i was falling to the floor. i hear the low drone of bees, my voice is the low drone of bees_

_something is happening, the shadows are moving, there is a woman's face like the moon eclipsing the sun and i feel the woman's hands soft on me, soft as love_

_i could slip so deeply into this heavy honeyed fog that nobody could find me, not even i would be there, only the slow hum and the suffocating sweetness, i am on the edge, one sting left, but then there is a woman and her face is the moon and her hands are sparrows _

Maura jerked awake. There was a soft knocking at her door. She paused, made sure the long silver knife was within reach.

"Hello?" she called, still half-dreaming, her ears still half-filled with the drone.

"Maura?"

She slipped off the couch and padded to the door, opening it slowly. Jane stood on the stoop, bathed in a dim golden light. Her breath caught in her throat; Jane's hair was highlighted with threads of amber, Maura could taste the heavy sweetness of honey in her mouth.

_she came to me and held me close to her and this is love_

"Can I come in?"

"Of course," and Maura stepped back to let Jane pass.

Jane stood in the living room, rubbing her hands together, all sharp angles and uncertain eyes.

"Maura, I haven't been there for you very much," she said suddenly, in a single breath. "And I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I just—I haven't known what to say, you know? How to talk to you."

Maura said nothing. She returned to the couch.

"I mean, I know we've been through stuff like this before but none of it . . . none of it really felt like this. You were gone so long, and I didn't know where you were, and all I could do was look for you, but every day that went by, I got more and more afraid."

Maura closed her eyes. She unconsciously stroked at the crook of her elbow.

"I was afraid, Maura, that you were—you know. And then I found you and I didn't know if I was just going to lose you again right then. And then it took you so long to wake up, I didn't . . . I couldn't . . ."

"Sit down," Maura said softly, taking Jane's hand and pulling her down beside her.

Jane sat, leaving a space between their bodies. She looked away. Maura's hands slid back to the places where she had been stung.

"I was so scared, Maura. I was so scared." She took a deep breath. "And then you were so hurt, and I felt like . . . I felt like it was my fault, like I didn't get to you fast enough, and then when I found out what . . . happened, I—"

_the taste of honey in my mouth, i cannot feel pain_

"Jane," she whispered. She didn't look at her but Maura could hear the tears on her face. She did not know what else to say beyond her name, could not think, was starting to slip again.

"Maura, I'm so sorry."

Maura reached out and touched Jane's hand. Jane flinched.

_if you do not want me i will stay here and here and here until the bees stop humming their droning songs_

"I don't know what to do," Jane mumbled. "I feel like I screwed up so bad, Maura, that you went through things no person should ever have to because I wasn't there, because I couldn't find you fast enough."

_jane, jane, you came to me and you saved me, you pulled me away from the long dark night, you came to me and your voice was the drone of bees and your body made of honey and you saved me_

Maura did not understand why Jane would not look at her. She felt the thinnest silver tendril of anguish course through her, she heard the far-off hum.

"Whatever you think you've done or not done, Jane, you have to know I don't agree. You saved my life," Maura said. Her head was beginning to ache. "I don't feel betrayed by you, I feel indebted."

_and this is love, you came to me and held me close to you and this is love_

"Whatever forgiveness you're looking for," she whispered, "I offer it to you. Please, Jane. Please."

"I just . . . I don't know if I want you to forgive me. I don't know if I can forgive myself," Jane said, her voice shot through with fine cracks. Maura could taste her despair like drops of honey on her tongue.

_i am so weary, everything is the drone of bees, everything is slipping farther and farther away from me, i am falling deeper and deeper into this warm blank sea_

She sighed and placed her hand on Jane's, weaving her fingers through Jane's before Jane could pull away. She pulled at Jane's hand until Jane shifted toward her, still looking down, the tears shimmering like honey in the sunset glow. Jane's breath caught in her throat as she ran her fingers trembling up the length of Maura's arm, barely making contact with her skin, her touch so light Maura was not sure it was real.

_when she touches me softly it is love. i cannot feel pain but the difference between hard and soft is love_

"I know you don't remember what happened," Jane said so quietly Maura had to close her eyes to hear. "And trust me, Maura, that's for the best, and I hope it never comes back to you. But I—I _know_ what happened, and Maura, I'm so sorry."

_i was drowning in honey and you saved me_

"Jane," she whispered again, reaching up to touch her cheek.

_your tears shine like honey on your cheeks and i would kiss them away and taste that honey on my tongue, there is only you, there is your face, a woman's face which means something and sometimes i know what it is_

Jane flinched again but did not pull her face away. "I was so scared," her eyes huge and dark, her lip trembling, the muscles of her jaw standing out in sharp relief.

_you saved me_

Maura closed her eyes and pushed hard against the swelling drone and the thick perfume of honey in her nose, her mouth, she did not want to feel safe in the still embrace of that submerged world. Maura closed her eyes and held Jane's hand tightly, she leaned forward and tasted the honey sweetness of the tears on Jane's cheek.

Jane gasped lightly but did not pull her face away. Maura rested her lips against Jane's skin, held Jane's hand in her own, feeling a tremendous weariness wash over her.

_i want to lift my head and speak but it is too heavy, it is so difficult, it is such a great effort, please jane you came to me once and if you do not want me i will stay here and here and here until the bees stop singing, i will only break into more pieces if you leave_

"I don't know, Maura," Jane mumbled. "I don't know-"

"Shh," Maura murmured. "Please don't."

She kept her lips pressed against Jane's cheek until she felt Jane exhale, slowly, shudderingly, and the stiffness of her body began to give. She leaned back slowly, allowing herself to sink against the couch, gently directing Jane's face to the hollow of her neck, Jane's head resting on her shoulder. Jane's breathing the low hum of bees, her tears like drops of honey on Maura's tongue.

_you came to me and you saved me_

_and this is love_

* * *

A/N Okay you guys thanks a million for reading and enjoying this weird story (i mean if you enjoyed it which i hope you did). And thank you for your comments and reviews, they make me feel good about the kinds of writing I do, and that means everything, pretty much.


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